She froze as a thought ran through her mind. What if the aliens were improving their technique? What if they were arranging for senior military officers to get a tour of their base – and brainwashing them into compliance with alien commands? The entire military was undergoing a massive reshuffle and reduction in force; with a little care, brainwashed officers would be left in high places, while free-thinking officers would be dismissed from the service. And then they’d own the military…
Cursing, she hailed a cab. It was time to start transmitting what she knew to the world – and pray that the aliens couldn’t track her down afterwards.
***
“It looks,” Toby said dryly, “as if a ghetto blaster had been unfaithful with a television.”
Gillian snorted. The device on the table had clearly been put together in haste, with a dozen components linked together into one confusing mass. Toby could do basic computer repair work, but he’d never had to actually open up a hard drive and repair the interior, not when a replacement could be easily obtained from a computer store. Gillian and her NSA colleagues knew computers inside out. They could put one together by hand out of a remarkable selection of mundane devices.
“The next model will be sexier, I promise,” she said. “Whatever it looks like, the device is capable of detecting an alien bug when transmitting at several metres. I think that the devices actually respond to pings from the alien starships, so we’re attempting to trigger an automatic dump response from the bugs we have in the vault. Unfortunately, if we ping a device out in the open, the aliens will pick up the unscheduled dump and know that something’s wrong.”
Toby frowned. “Rather like having a rogue signal opening a garage door?”
“Something like that,” Gillian agreed. “The aliens don’t seem to use a constant stream of signals from their devices, which makes perfect sense when you consider that we might pick up a signal if it was constantly there – or it might scramble some of our transmissions. I think that given enough time we might be able to construct a jamming device, but I’m afraid that that will definitely tip off the aliens. There’s no other logical reason for us producing such a device.”
“Because the Chinese aren’t as capable as the aliens,” Toby agreed. The aliens would know that the device was aimed at them, if only because there were no other possible targets. And then they’d know that they’d been rumbled. “What are they playing at?”
He scowled down at the table. The aliens seemed to be toying with the human race; every day brought more and more reports of odd alien activity, activity that seemed to make little sense. They were buying up food surpluses from American farms, driving prices upwards; they were placing orders with American firms for technology that had to be remarkably primitive compared to anything they had developed for themselves. One scientist from NASA who had been quietly streamlined into the growing resistance had speculated that the aliens actually wanted to start mining the Moon and nearby asteroids. Once out of the gravity well, human technology might be just as capable as alien technology – and easier to repair if it broke. Surprisingly, no one seemed to be raising any objections to mining the lunar surface; the environmental groups seemed happy to concentrate on shutting down factories across the globe instead of fretting about humans polluting the moon.
“They want something from us and they can’t just take it,” Gillian said. She stroked her chin thoughtfully. “They clearly have a plan…”
“And we’re dancing to their tune,” Toby said, sharply. Already, military units were being disbanded or reorganised into the forces that would remain part of the United States of America’s military machine. It would be a leaner, but meaner army – at least according to the Pentagon’s press releases. Toby knew that hundreds of military officers were protesting their orders in the strongest possible terms, if only because the pull-out of American forces risked destabilising the world. And once the military had been cut down sharply…
Some of the officers had received orders to preserve as much military material as possible. It was relatively easy to store tanks rather than dismantle them, or place aircraft in sealed hangers for later use if necessary. An alarming amount of military equipment seemed to have gone missing, although most reports indicated that it had been the result of miscounting or items being cannibalised to keep vehicles operating. Toby knew that most of the missing material – with the paper trail carefully fudged – had been placed into hiding, but he didn’t know precise details. God alone knew just how closely the aliens were monitoring the United States. Once Gillian’s device went into full production, at least they might be able to start marking out some clear areas.
“The entire world is dancing to their tune,” Gillian said. “I heard on the grapevine that Iran has been handing out contracts on alien heads.”
Toby nodded. The Government of Iran was seeing cash-flow problems as the implications of fusion power sank in. They’d been threatening everything from war to terrorism, but the world wasn’t paying much attention. For once, the Middle East wasn't the centre of world attention – and they hated it. The Secret Service had quietly warned that there might be swarms of terrorists descending on alien bases, intent on avenging the loss of the oil weapon. Toby privately gave governments like Saudi Arabia no more than a few more months before they were destroyed by their own people. And then they’d discover that they couldn’t drink oil.
“So far, no one has dared strike at the aliens,” he said. “What will they do when someone finally manages to take a shot at a Snake?”
He shook his head. No one knew, not least because no one knew anything about alien mentalities. The United States had been willing to tolerate a great deal of terrorism before finally attempting to take the war to the terrorists after 9/11. But then – everyone had known that raising the ante by invading terrorist-supporting countries could result in more trouble at home. And when the United States had let Iran get away with taking and holding hostages, everyone with a grudge had felt as if they could take a shot at the United States and get away with it.
But no one knew how the aliens would react…
A thought appeared in his mind. It was a thoroughly nasty thought, one his father would probably have understood and approved. But then, his father had friends who believed that Saudi Arabia and Iran were funding left-wing organisations that were undermining American freedoms and intending to replace the Constitution with Islamic Law. It was a crazy idea, yet it might just work…and if they were lucky, it would take some of the pressure off the United States. And it might just force the aliens to show their hand.
“I’m going to need you to be on detached duty for a while,” he said. His father’s growing resistance organisation would need technical help. Besides, he would have felt happier if Gillian was out of Washington. The noose was growing tighter and he had an uncomfortable feeling that the shit was about to hit the fan. How could the people outside, thronging the streets of Washington, be unaware of the looming catastrophe? “Your superiors have already okayed it. You’ll be working with an underground unit without links to Fort Meade.”
Gillian blinked at him. “Why me?”
Toby considered several answers, and then settled upon the truth. “Because I trust you,” he said. “Because you already know what is at stake. Because you’re the one who developed these bug-detectors and we need you on site so we can ensure that we’re clean.”
“All right,” Gillian said, reluctantly. “And what will you be doing in the meantime?”
“You don’t want to know,” Toby said. He’d have to have a meeting with the CIA and NSA – and then probably a discussion with an ally in the United States Special Operations Command. At least there were so many units being moved around the globe right now; no one would even notice if one happened to be diverted. And he had just the right unit in mind. “Trust me; you really don’t want to know.”
“You can take me out to dinner tonight, then,” Gillian said. “I’ll have to get my files organised for the move, an
d then pick up a few hundred spare parts for this monster.” She tapped the detector with a long finger. “I think it will work fine in the field, but I’m not sure just how well it will work, if you take my meaning.”
Toby nodded. His father had been fond of complaining about expensive gadgets that worked perfectly in the lab and failed constantly in the field. The United States had had thousands of companies intent on getting military contracts, each one armed with thousands of lobbyists intent on convincing Congressmen that their device would change the shape of modern warfare – and, just incidentally, ensure higher levels of employment in the Congressman’s home district. It wouldn’t be the first time Congress had insisted that the military bought something that was of little use in the field. If nothing else, the military cutbacks would force those firms to switch to non-military production in a hurry. Their lobbyists would soon be out of work.
“You’ll be on hand to fix it,” he said. He’d miss her, he knew. Sharing the occasional dinner with her kept him going at times. There were still times when he wondered if he could take their relationship to the next level. But that would have to wait until afterwards – if there was an afterwards. “Remember; paper letters only, written in code…”
“Don’t teach your grandmother to suck eggs,” Gillian said, tartly. Toby flushed as she grinned at him. She knew more about codes and security than he’d ever learned, or would ever learn. Gillian might never have been out in the field in her life, but it hadn’t stopped her rising in the NSA. Sheer competence alone had forced her forward. “I know basic security precautions…”
There was a knock on the sealed door. Toby cursed as he opened the door and saw an NSA officer, holding a secure phone in one hand. “Mr Sanderson, sir, there’s been an emergency alert from the White House. You’re to make your whereabouts known to the Secret Service at once!”
Toby shared a long look with Gillian. Had the aliens decided to stop playing games and launch the invasion, or had something else happened?
“I understand,” he said. His secure phone had been left outside, but it would be easy to fetch it and place a call. “I’m on my way.”
Chapter Twenty-One
Washington DC
USA, Day 35
The Secret Service spared no expense. A helicopter picked him off the roof of the NSA building and carried Toby over towards the White House. Toby could see armed Marines patrolling the grounds, with Secret Servicemen staying well back and policemen working frantically to get the mob of protesters at the gates moved back for their own safety. As soon as the helicopter touched down, a mob of security officers surrounded him, checked his identity and then pulled him into the White House and down the steps to the bunker. The President was heavily protected at all times, but this was something greater. Toby had been a child the last time anyone had carried out an attack in Washington, when an airliner had been flown into the Pentagon. It had been chaotic back then too.
“It’s bad news,” the President said. He looked stunned, as if someone had hit him neatly between the eyes. It was hardly the most reassuring look for the most powerful man in the world, but then…all of the politicians who might be good in a crisis tended to be driving out of the running before they could even stand for President. And then those who survived often found that they were not up to handing crisis after crisis. “Air Force One has gone down in midair.”
Toby stared at him. Air Force One – actually, there were several planes decked out as Air Force One, but only one holding the title and callsign at any given time – was normally the President’s exclusive transport. But the President had had to send the Vice President to Japan to reassure the Japanese about America's commitment to certain treaties and, just to ensure that they took him seriously, he’d ordered him to fly on Air Force One. And now something had happened to his flight…he’d been over the Pacific Ocean, if memory served, escorted by a flight of Tomcats from a carrier heading home to the United States.
“My God,” he said, finally. Why…who…if the President was the world’s number one target for terrorist activity, the Vice President certainly ranked as number five or six. His security was almost as good as the President’s security; there was literally no more secure aircraft than Air Force One. And the Japanese wouldn’t have played fast and loose with American security, not like some Middle Eastern nations he could name. It was already shaping up into a horrific nightmare. Fingers would be pointed everywhere…
He thought rapidly. Who benefited? Islamic terrorists would definitely be the prime suspects, but very few of the groups that had managed to remain active after the invasions of Afghanistan and Iraq would have the capability to mount such a successful strike. Most of them had started to concentrate on soft targets, mainly outside the United States. No halfway sane terrorist wanted to give the United States an excuse to wage war on their host countries. And then there were the aliens…
On the face of it, the aliens didn’t benefit at all. The Vice President had been, like so many others in government, a compromise candidate. He’d brought valuable support to the President’s administration, but few other qualities of value. On the other hand, he had been a good sounding board for some of the President’s qualities and he balanced the ticket nicely against Jeannette McGreevy…
Toby would have sworn aloud if he’d been alone. Jeannette McGreevy, the Secretary of State, the woman who was using the aliens to build an impregnable power base for herself…and a woman who stood alarmingly close to the Presidency. After the Vice President, the Line of Succession ran through The Speaker of the House of Representatives and The President Pro-Tempore of the Senate before reaching the Secretary of State, but neither of them could be expected to serve as Vice President, if only because they had few backers. McGreevy was almost the only choice for Vice President, yet she couldn’t be trusted. And the President didn’t know it…
He looked down at the President, who seemed tired and worn. Somewhere on his person, or scattered around the room, was an alien bug, a surveillance device so tiny as to be literally invisible to the naked eye. He couldn’t reach out to the President, or tell him about the resistance…or, for that matter, convince him to invoke presidential authority to help the resistance. If he did, the aliens would know…and then what would they do?
***
“We flew SAR aircraft out of Diego Garcia to link up with helicopters from the Truman,” Major Dalton said. He sounded nervous. Briefing the President was never easy at the best of times. Toby could hardly blame him. Washington sometimes operated on the ‘shoot the messenger’ theory of government. “They found nothing, apart from trace debris. The aircraft literally disintegrated in midair.”
The President seemed more composed now, but Toby suspected that it was partly an act. “What happened?”
“We have gun camera footage from one of the drones overseeing the flight,” Dalton said. Air Force One never flew alone, no matter what the movies claimed; there had been a powerful fighter escort from the carrier accompanying the flight. Terrorists might not fly in fighter jets, but one of the more persistent nightmares was a rogue state launching an attempt to shoot Air Force One down. But they should have been safe over the Pacific Ocean... “The footage suggests, after a preliminary look, that there was a bomb on the flight, which detonated with impressive force. They would all have been dead in the first few seconds after detonation.”
Toby frowned, inwardly. No one should have been able to slip a bomb onto the aircraft. The USAF only put the most reliable flight crew on Air Force One, and the ground crew were all specially trained and vetted. There might have been a lone Japanese terrorist who’d somehow managed to get onto the base housing Air Force One while the Vice President was in Japan, but Toby couldn't see how he would have been able to conceal a bomb onboard. The security sweeps should have picked up anything before the Vice President got anywhere near the plane. No one – no one human – would have been able to plant a bomb on Air Force One.
He would have e
xpected the aliens to simply shoot the aircraft down from orbit, but he had to admit that this was more subtle. A laser-type directed energy weapon could have only one possible source, an alien starship. It would have been an open act of war. This way, there would be considerable doubt over who had carried out the bombings, rendering it impossible to extract revenge. The aliens had carried out a neat strike and there was no way to prove what they’d done.
“We’re currently organising a sweep to pick up what remains of the wreckage, but the surrounding environment will make that difficult,” Dalton continued. “Once recovered, the wreckage will be flown to the nearest base for analysis, while the FBI conducts interviews of personnel who could have conceivably planted a bomb on the craft. We’ll vet everyone who might have had any access at all, Mr President. We will find the people responsible.”
The President’s eyes crossed the room to the CIA Director. “Who,” he said, coldly, “was responsible for this?”
Toby winced. The CIA Director had almost certainly come to the same conclusion as himself, but they didn't dare say it out loud, not when the aliens might hear. No, they would hear. Gillian’s device might not be ready for mass-production yet, but the NSA had deployed a series of increasingly sophisticated detectors in the White House and they’d located at least nine active bugs. There could be dozens more that weren't transmitting to anyone.
The Trojan Horse Page 20
